


Setting up house in CT

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [185]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 16:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Setting up house in CT

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

With Ryan stretched out on his front, clean sheets and comforter put on their bed, Sam takes his time cleaning up his lover's back, grateful for the small first aid kit that goes everywhere with them. "Hold still," he orders, using tweezers to pull a sizeable splinter from Ryan's shoulder. "I think that's the last of them."

Still feeling pretty light-headed after their first experience of the private dock, Ryan tries to smother his snicker against the pillow. "Maybe I should get a tetanus shot. Just to be on the safe side," he suggests, then narrows his eyes in thought. "Or, wait. Is that only for metal? What's that thing you have to worry about with wood? Lockjaw?"

Sam laughs, cleansing the wounds with an antibacterial wash. "I think it's the same thing but I don't think these are deep enough to pose a risk. Although you could, if you wanted. I bet any doctor would give you one if they knew you might be scrounging around in those barns out there."

"Scrounging. Right." Ryan giggles. Yeah, he's definitely still flying, and his voice has a distinctively dreamy tone when he murmurs, "I love you."

"I love you too," Sam says with a smile, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Ryan's mouth. "How's your cock feel?" he asks, sitting back and picking out a small tube of ointment from their supplies.

"Fine. You've hurt it worse before." Much worse, hell.

"Bet it felt good to be able to scream though," Sam says, smile morphing into a full-out grin.

"Oh, yeah." Ryan's throat feels like it's been rubbed raw with sandpaper. "That felt amazing. I look forward to doing it again. And again..." They've got six weeks in this private paradise. He still can't quite believe it.

"In a barn, on a boat, against a tree..." Sam rubs ointment over Ryan's back, paying special attention to his shoulders and ass.

"In a box, with a fox," Ryan mutters, and wriggles beneath his lover. "I'm going to take better care of you this time." It's a bit of a non sequitur, but it makes sense in his head.

Sam gives him a look, even though he knows Ryan's still half-under. "What d'you mean? You always take good care of me."

"Not good enough," Ryan argues, his eyes slipping shut. "You got hurt doing Man on a Ledge. And you were so stressed out for Thunder Run..." He sighs. "I'll do better."

"Neither of those things had anything to do with you," Sam points out, but he knows it's a lost cause. "I love the way you take care of me," he says. "Speaking of which, tonight I get to care of you. What would you like for dinner? Do you think you'll feel like doing groceries later or do you want me to see if there's somewhere that delivers out here? We can always go out, but with your back..."

"Um. Spaghetti and meatballs," Ryan decides, beginning to drift beneath the gentle touch of Sam's hands. "Can we stay here?"

Sam's damned if he knows where they're going to get spaghetti and meatballs from but he agrees anyway. After what he put Ryan through on the dock, his lover can have anything he wants. "Yeah, of course we can," he says, putting away the first aid kit and giving Ryan a kiss on the temple before draping a light throw over him and going in search of his phone.

///

When Ryan finally drags himself out of bed to take a piss, he feels like he's lost in a fog. Automatically he clasps his hands together behind him to stretch out his back, then winces as every fucking muscles twinges. Flicking the lightswitch in the master bath, Ryan looks over his shoulder to check out his reflection in the mirror. And he grins at the mess of scrapes and new bruises.

Wandering back out with the intention of digging through his suitcase for a fresh pair of shorts, he smiles to find Sam passed out in an armchair angled in front of the window to catch the last of the sunset. "Hey," Ryan whispers, leaning down to kiss his lover. "Wake up, or you'll never sleep later tonight."

"Hm. What?" Sam opens his eyes, startling to find Ryan right there above him. "Shit. What time is it?" he asks, before checking his own watch. "Okay. Food should be here soon. I ordered it for six," he says, rubbing at his face as he sits up straighter and sets his book aside.

"Hey, sorry," Ryan says, stepping back. "I didn't mean to... Hey." He grins shyly at his lover, simply enjoying the vision of Sam in the gathering dusk. "I'll unpack and get everything set up tomorrow, okay?" He knows how important it is to Sam to have things organized and in order, but he's not sure he's going to manage it all tonight.

"Yeah, that's fine," Sam says, reaching up to pull Ryan down into his lap. "This place is big enough, it doesn't really matter." At least not right away.

"I feel like we should throw some massive house parties while we're here," Ryan tells him, comfortably settling in and looping his arms loosely around Sam's neck. "Except I'm also feeling too selfish to share."

Sam laughs. "We could always invite Alex and Luke up for a weekend," he says. "Or we could throw a Citadel open house," he adds with a grin. "Neither of those would infringe on us having this place to ourselves too much."

"Hmm." Ryan grins and traces his fingertip around the lush shape of Sam's mouth. "We'll see. If this starts to feel a little too much like The Shining for you, then you can let me know." Because otherwise, he thinks he might just really be looking forward to the shared solitude. Particularly because he meant every word about making sure this shoot is less stressful for Sam than some of the last have been.

"As long as you don't start stalking me with an ax, I think we're good," Sam says, grinning back. "Where do you want to eat?"

Ryan glances out the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling window - wall, really - and considers. "Even though it's dark, I vote for outside. We should take advantage of that before it really starts getting cold at night." He dips his head and kisses Sam, lingering. "The back patio?"

"Sounds good to me," Sam says. "You feel up to setting the table?"

"Yeah, of course." Ryan slips out of Sam's lap with a last kiss, then heads downstairs to dig through his suitcase. He calls over his shoulder, "You want me to find you some clean clothes?"

"Sure," Sam says, interrupted on his way to the kitchen by the intercom buzzing. "Fuck. What did Linda say the code was for the gate?"

"Three-three-one-nine-eight-six," Ryan calls back. He crosses the foyer still stark naked and digs them both out some soft pajama bottoms. He also tosses Sam a t-shirt. "I had the security company set it to something I figured we could both remember."

"That's to let them in too?" Sam asks, shoving a hand through his still-short hair as he presses the intercom button. "Yeah?"

"Food delivery from Sorrento's."

"Yeah, c'mon up," Sam says, pressing the numbers Ryan gave him and frowning at the intercom until he hears the tell-tale beep. "I think I did that right."

"And now we find out just how many seconds it takes someone to get from the gate to the front door," Ryan says with a grin, dashing into the room to hand Sam his clothes. He pulls on his own pants then starts opening kitchen cabinets randomly, searching for plates.

Sam gets dressed and slides open the screen door to the back patio. He turns on the lights, wipes down the table with a cloth he finds under the sink and lights one of the citronella lamps Linda'd pointed out them, placing it in the middle. "Anything else you want me to do? Should we dish up in here? Keep the bugs off the food?" 

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," Ryan agrees. He loads up his arms with flatware and glasses as well as a few linen napkins he discovered, then carries it all out to the table. Inside the house he can hear Sam speaking with the delivery man and so he's careful to stay out of sight. There's no need for the whole small New England town to hear that the big famous movie star is sharing his rented quarters with another man, and no one else.

When Ryan comes back in, Sam's busy pulling dish after dish out of a huge brown paper bag, lining them up on the counter. "Okay, there's a meat lovers pizza, a veggie one, spaghetti, that's the meatballs and sauce there, um, lasagna, that's the garlic bread, Caesar salad, and I ordered a few beers and some cokes," he says. "Oh, and there's tiramisu for dessert."

Ryan blinks at the abundance of food, even as his stomach grumbles with hunger. "You got that I said I didn't want to go grocery shopping _today_ , right?" he murmurs, grinning at his lover. He cuts a huge slice of lasagna and puts it onto a plate for Sam, then starts dishing out the spaghetti.

Sam ducks his head a little. "You were sleeping," he protests but just barely. "And I couldn't decide. Besides. I'm starving. That lunch sucked today."

The garlic bread is hot and fragrant, and Ryan cuts thick slices for both of them, then frowns a little. "Um. I think we're going to need bigger plates," he says, and shoots his lover a grin over his shoulder as he brings the first wave of the feast out to the deck.

"You want a beer or a coke?" Sam asks. 

"Beer, please," Ryan calls back, laying out their dishes and moving the citronella candle so it's more prominent. Hoping it works. Back into the kitchen and he loads up a second round of plates, then sets them out as well, grateful that the table is clearly designed to easily seat six people, not just two. He sits down and inhales deeply. "Ohhh my god, I am _starving_ ," he says, but waits for Sam to dig in to his food before following suit.

"Mm." Sam groans, mouth full of lasagna. "So good," he mumbles, needing to get some food into him before his hunger burns a hole in his stomach. "We should put this place on speed dial, for when you don't feel like cooking or going into town," he adds. God knows he'd rather have Ryan's cooking than anything else.

"That rocks that you were able to find a place that delivers all the way up here," Ryan agrees, twirling spaghetti on his fork through the thick meat sauce. "Did the delivery guy recognize you?"

"Yeah." Sam laughs, shaking his head. "He asked me to sign a napkin for him."

"Hmm." Ryan's mouth twists in a frown. "Okay, so... small town. Small community. Everyone's already excited about the film being shot in the area, and probably a shitload of people already know where you live." He takes a swallow of beer. "Do you think it'll scan, our story about me being your P.A., if they figure out I'm living here? Is that normal for a P.A.?"

"Depends on the actor and the P.A.," Sam says. "You're not gonna do me much good as my P.A. if you're living elsewhere and I have to track you down every time I want something. Besides, all I have to do is mention the possibility of Natalie visiting and the gossip mill'll go crazy with that." He smiles at Ryan. "I think we're good. It's maybe just more important here that you're seen on set, running errands for me, all that shit."

"Okay." Ryan sinks his teeth into a meatball, still hot, and moans with pleasure. "Fuck. We're going to get so fat," he mutters, taking a second look at the abundance spread out before them. If everything on the restaurant's menu is as good as this... "So yeah, that's fine. I can do that," he agrees, jumping back to what Sam just said. "At some point, you might want to have Natalie visit you on set. I mean, not necessarily this set, but _some_ set, just to keep the rumors flowing. Particularly since you're going to be too busy this next year to hare off on a private holiday with her."

Sam nods. "Yeah, I know," he says, wishing they could just be done with all the fucking subterfuge. Maybe after he finishes this round of projects. "Although if I flirt with the girls in make-up, that ought to be enough." He grins.

"You're only allowed to flirt with the ugly ones," Ryan announces, like he's really got any say in it. Or that he even _should_ have any say. "But not the married ugly ones," he adds, reconsidering, "because then you'll get a really terrible fucking reputation in a bad way. You don't need that complication."

Sam laughs. "Yeah, but if I'm just flirting, then there's no harm. I already have a girlfriend and I'm so heterosexual I can't help but make eyes at everything in a skirt," he says, making a face.

Ryan raises an eyebrow at that, and studies Sam for a long moment. "...Do you want me to wear a skirt?"

Sam just looks at Ryan and then sits back. "That depends. Are you gonna wear stockings and high heels with it?"

"Definitely not." Ryan frowns. "Wait. What? I wasn't serious. Were you serious?"

"Not if you weren't," Sam teases, grinning.

Ryan huffs a sigh. "Just because I have the legs for it, that doesn't make it a good idea," he insists, hoping that they've safely skirted the issue.

So to speak.

Sam shrugs. "I don't think you'd ever look like a woman," he says. "But seeing you in a skirt, stretched across your cock, nothing but garters under it so you're completely exposed and then high heels... push you down over a table, your ass tilted at that angle..." _Christ._ He grins at Ryan.

His jaw drops, and for a long moment all Ryan can do is stare. "I'm sorry I brought it up," he says in a small voice, pretty damn horrified at the image. And kind of freakishly aroused.

"I'm not," Sam says happily, quite enjoying the image himself. He bites into a slice of garlic bread and groans with pleasure. "Fuck, this is good."

Ryan's brow furrows. "You're a real bastard," he says, watching Sam eat with his usual gusto. "Do you want me in eyeliner, too?"

Sam grins. "Yeah, but nothing else. No lipstick. Not unless I put it on you."

"Don't want any stains on your cock?" God, Ryan can't eat at _all_ now.

"Nah. I like that part, but I think guys look hotter in eyeliner alone," Sam says casually, watching Ryan, noting that his lover's stopped eating. "Why? Do you want to wear lipstick?" Christ. Ryan's right. He _is_ a bastard.

Fuck. How the hell does Ryan get himself into messes like this? His fucking huge mouth... "Only if you can find a shade which very much brings out my eyes."

"I think I can do that," Sam says, still as casual as ever. "You can get on the laptop tomorrow and order whatever you need from Cit. Have them deliver it." It's not like he'd ever make Ryan go shopping for this stuff. Sure as hell not here.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ Now Ryan can't even tell for sure whether Sam is serious about this, but he's very much worried that he might be. "Eat your dinner," he orders. "If you're going to tease me like this then you'll need to have your strength up."

"I _am_ eating," Sam points out with a laugh, digging into his pizza. "You're the one who stopped."

"Guess I'm not hungry." What Ryan is, however, is sulking. He pokes at his spaghetti with his fork, then gives it up and just knocks back the last of his beer. The killer is that he's not even entirely sure _why_ he's sulking. "Have you played much with that?" he asks after a long moment of silence, his question barely loud enough to be heard.

"With what?" Sam asks, not entirely sure which part Ryan's referring to.

"The..." Ryan shrugs, uncomfortable with his own curiosity. "You know, the cross-dressing thing."

"Nope. Not much at all," Sam says with a shrug. "There was a pretty girl I picked up at Citadel a couple years ago who turned out to be a guy, but that's totally different."

"Wha...?" Ryan coughs, and reaches across the table to snag Sam's beer and take a sip to calm his throat. "Seriously, he was that good?"

"Yeah." Sam grins. "He told me when we got up to the room - before he let me go any further, which is good, because if I'd found out _during_ , I would have been really pissed off."

"I can imagine." Ryan definitely can imagine, and he knows damn well that Sam in full temper is a scary fucking thing to behold, for all Ryan's seen him that way so rarely. "So, then what?" he asks. "Once he gave you the big reveal, did that change your plans much?"

Sam shakes his head. "No. I told him for his own safety he'd be better off telling people downstairs but I said it didn't matter to me and I fucked him anyway."

Slowly Ryan nods, and the details are beginning to gradually coalesce in his mind. "So, maybe... if you were to come into the bar one evening to quench your thirst, and you couldn't help but notice this absolutely perfect _male_ ass, bare and on display in a tiny skirt, garters and stockings and - oh, yeah - high heels, because a bloke's just casually waiting for his pint, maybe flirting with the bartender a little bit..."

"I'd be very tempted to join him at the bar," Sam says, settling back in his chair. "See if the face matched the ass and if it did, if he was looking to have that perfect ass filled..."

The latent sensuality in the words makes Ryan shiver, and he tries to cover for it. "Of course, you'd hardly be the only one tempted to join him," he points out, falling more into the mindset and trying to figure out - not a way to gain the upper hand, he doesn't need that with Sam - but a way to at least hold his own, for a short time. He shrugs carelessly. "What would make you stand out from all the admirers?"

Sam grins, eyes sparkling. "You really have to ask that?"

"Well obviously _I_ already know the answer to that," Ryan murmurs, ducking his head on a smile. "I'm just suggesting that perhaps he wouldn't."

"And here I thought everyone found me irresistible," Sam teases.

"Yeah, right. Some people think you're an obnoxious Aussie upstart who got invited to sit at the big kids' table by mistake," Ryan says with a laugh, thinking of the uproar there was a few years ago when the camera caught Sam chewing gum at the Academy Awards. "Maybe..." he stretches out his arm on the table, lightly playing his fingers over the delicate tracery of veins on Sam's inner wrist. "Maybe a guy who's bothered to get all dressed up like that," as opposed to how completely dressed-down Ryan was at their first meeting, and that was even _before_ he got naked, "needs some subtler motivation. Some charm, some flirting, a few compliments on how incredible he looks in silk garters..."

"You mean I have to romance him?" Sam sighs, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

Ryan catches that eyeroll and he bites his bottom lip, hesitating before he answers softly. "Yeah. Maybe."

Shit. There's something in Ryan's voice that tells Sam they've moved away from teasing. A certain vulnerability he knows better than to ignore. "Well then, I guess I'd ask if I could buy him a pint, since that's what he's drinking, and I'd introduce myself, tell him how he caught my eye from across the room, how much I like his outfit, _especially_ the garters..."

A shy grin blooms on Ryan's face. "Yeah, that'd probably work." Whether he'd actually ever have the opportunity to drink that second beer is another matter entirely.

"And then I'd probably ask if I could touch him. Do you think he'd say yes?"

_God, yes_. Ryan is just so helpless when it comes to Sam, always. "Yes," he whispers, entranced. Like there was really ever any doubt.

"Good." Sam smiles. "Which means I'd run my hand up and down his legs, over the stockings, feeling warm, smooth skin underneath..."

Ryan moans. And he melts, giving up all pretense of eating his dinner. He simply slips from his chair to the deck, kneeling by his lover and rubbing his cheek against Sam's thigh while he listens.

"And then I'd run my fingers over where those stockings end, over bare flesh and I'd tease them between his cheeks, over his balls, watching his face while I did..." Sam says, sliding those same fingers into Ryan's hair.

"Would his balls be bare?" Ryan asks softly, even as he wonders why his brain gets distracted with dumbass details like that at a time like this.

"You tell me," Sam says, smiling at the question. "His ass is bare and on display but what's he wearing under that skirt? Anything?"

_Skirt, god._ Ryan wonders - not for the first time, not by a long shot - just what the heck he's getting into. "I think his balls must be bare, too," he murmurs. "Nothing on at all under there. Except he's got a big distracting tattoo."

"A gorgeous tattoo," Sam murmurs, rubbing the pads of his fingers over Ryan's scalp. "It sets him apart from everyone else." 

"It makes him dead recognizable from the back, that's for sure," Ryan jokes. God, Sam's touch feels so damn good. Kneeling like this at his sir's side, with his lover's caresses gentling him down from his anxiety of mere minutes ago... It's just right. Plain and simple. "Okay," Ryan whispers, his fingers toying with the frayed hem of Sam's jeans. "I'll do that if you want."

"I think we should." Sam says, threading his fingers through Ryan's hair, almost petting him. "It's not like we have to do it again if you don't like it, and you never know..."

Ryan snorts a soft laugh. "Yeah, that's the kicker. I thought of myself as a kinky freak _before_ you. But then..."

"You hooked up with the kinkiest freak of them all?" Sam teases.

"Something like that," Ryan snickers, although it's really not what he meant at all. "Are you sure that's how it happened? It's not that I just bring out all your wickedest impulses?"

"Oh, that too, definitely," Sam agrees. "I wouldn't have tasted just anyone's blood in a first scene." He grins.

"No?" Ryan turns his head to look at Sam, then kneels up so he can brush a kiss over his lover's lips. "I thought you... you know. That you could take me or leave me in the beginning," he says with a light shrug, thinking about the earliest days of their relationship. A relationship that nearly wasn't, in retrospect.

"It wasn't that," Sam says, shaking head. "I just - I knew you'd turn my life upside down if I gave you half a chance and I wasn't sure I was ready for that. I'd spent so long just being on my own."

It's an incredibly honest answer, and it sends a rush of tenderness through Ryan. He smiles and lays his head on Sam's shoulder, nuzzling his lover's throat, rough stubble over his lips. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For letting me."

Wrapping his arms around Ryan, Sam smiles too. "I've never regretted it for even a second," he whispers. "You're the best thing ever to happen to me."


End file.
